Introspective II: New Assignment
by Spense
Summary: Race's view of his arrival in the Quest household.


DISCLAIMER: I do not have or own JQ, nor do I have any rights to them. I have no affiliation with Hanna-Barbera, Time Warner, or the Cartoon Network; I am writing this purely out of love and respect for JQ. This is written strictly by a fan, for the enjoyment of other fans, and I have received no payment or other compensation, so don't sue me! Meach owns Will Harkness, and I have used the character with her permission.  
  
CATEGORY: Family, Past, Vignette RATING: G ARCHIVE: No archiving without permission.  
  
As usual, thanks to the B.A.D. Babes, Helen and Meach Spense, November 2001  
  
NTROSPECTIVE: NEW ASSIGNMENT  
  
Takes place approximately 1 month after Rachel's death prior to Hadji joining the family; Jonny is six, and the setting is Palm Key.  
  
  
  
Roger "Race" Bannon sat in the small plane with his superior, Phil Corvin. Race, a top I-1 agent, was used to perilous operations and delicate negotiations involved in the shifting kaleidoscope of the world's powerful countries.  
  
Corvin seemed unusually nervous, much to Race's amusement. The head of I-1 was notoriously difficult to rattle. Race was relaxed, but not altogether happy to be on this flight either. Although he was here on this assignment by choice he knew it wasn't going to be easy. But still, it was amusing to watch Phil, none-the-less. Top agents, like himself and Corvin tended to not be unsettled easily, but this particular assignment had the entire headquarters on edge. Its importance was undeniable, and its success rate had turned out to be unexpectedly low. In fact, two highly trained, highly successful agents had gone down in spectacular flames on this one. Now, the brass in Washington were getting worried. Race knew he was truly the last line of defense on this one.  
  
The small plane touched down at its location - a small Florida island named Palm Key.  
  
"Now remember," Corvin warned, "let me take the abuse from Dr. Quest. From what Agents O'Hara and Andrews said, he's far harder to deal with than he comes across." He shook his head as he stepped out of the plane. "Odd though. He's always been very cooperative until now." He looked sharply at Race who had followed him out of the plane. "You understand? Since the death of his wife, Dr. Quest has been reluctant to collaborate with us."  
  
Race just nodded as he grabbed his two large soft leather cases from inside the plane, and slung a smaller case over his shoulder. Of course Dr. Quest was being difficult. And not only because of the death of his wife, Race thought, but because unbeknownst to Corvin, both Agents O'Hara and Andrews detested children. They had never hidden their abject dislike of kids to their fellow agents in the field. And Corvin's superiors felt they should be the agents in charge of Dr. Quest's six-year-old son. Actually, both agents had been placed here for disciplinary reasons, but Race knew Corvin would never had allowed it had he known about their feelings towards children. However, that small fact had never come out, and Race felt the kid had probably paid the price. Unfortunately, those assignments had also succeeded admirably in ticking off the boy's father, world-renowned scientist, and I-1's top prize, Dr. Benton Quest.  
  
In addition, it was a known fact that Dr. Quest had requested protection for his family, prior to his wife's assassination, and unfortunately, the men at the top had deemed it unnecessary. Now, Dr. Rachel Quest was dead, a huge loss not only to her family, but to her specific field of study and science in general, and Dr. Benton Quest resented the protection forced upon him for his son.  
  
No, Race concluded to himself, this man would not want a whole lot to do with I-1, much less another on-site agent at this point. Race took in the comfortable house, with the porch strewn with welcoming white wicker patio furniture, and the large swing, suspended by chains from the ceiling, as they approached the door and knocked. He also noted with a grin, the parcel of children's toys spread haphazardly over the deck flooring.  
  
However, his heart sank as he and Corvin were met by a red-haired man holding a small blond child whose face was turned away from the newcomers. The man looked at them without a smile, then gave a tight nod of acknowledgement to Phil, and a tense comment, "Corvin". The look he turned on Race could best be described as a glare. Race carefully returned the greeting with a pleasant smile and studied the pair discreetly.  
  
This must be Dr. Quest. Who else could he be? But his appearance was unexpected. First off, he was surprisingly young for a man with his reputation and accreditations. Race had assumed an older man with a young wife and child. He was incorrect. This man appeared to be about his age. He was slim, and appeared in good shape, and had a neatly trimmed beard. His neatly pressed khakis, a polo shirt and loafers could have fit in a business-casual type of office anywhere. Race had to quickly rearrange his thoughts. This man just didn't look the part of one of the top research scientists in the world today. His expression was the only part at odds with his appearance; his face was decidedly grim, and the look in his azure blue eyes made Race suddenly feel sorry for Corvin. His interview with this man was not going to be pleasant.  
  
The little boy appeared to have the same slim build as his father. However, it was hard to tell for sure as Race had yet to see his face, as it was buried in his father's shoulder. The boy clung tightly to his father's neck in what appeared to be a near-strangle hold. The Doctor didn't seem to mind, he was holding tightly onto the boy himself.  
  
Race felt another sharp stab of anger at Agents O'Hara and Andrews. Yes, they were good field agents. Excellent in fact. But they were arrogant, as were many agents, in addition to detesting children on sight. They were definitely not the right fit for this assignment. Especially for a six- year-old child who had just lost his mother.  
  
Phil introduced Race, and the agent and scientist briefly shook hands. Race could sense that Dr. Quest's attention was not on him, but rather on Corvin.  
  
Corvin obviously could sense the same thing. "I understand you wanted to talk to me?" he queried.  
  
"Yes," the one word was quietly spoken, but Race could hear the wealth of inflection in the grim comment. He could also see the inner battle going on inside the man, who then said quietly to his son, "Jonny, I need you to wait with Agent Bannon while I talk to Mr. Corvin."  
  
The child's reaction was instantaneous. He began crying deep wrenching sobs, and clung even tighter (if that were possible) to his father. "No!" It was a scream. "No daddy! I don't want to." The tantrum was loud and full-blown, as though the child had been simmering in silence. "Don't go away! Don't leave mmeeee . . ."  
  
The last comment tore at Race's heart, and elevated his assessment of the boy's reaction from the standard 'I want my own way' temper-tantrum to the emotional reaction of a truly terrified child. He could see the indecision on the doctor's face, as the boy continued wailing and clutching at his father. Race was beginning to get a feel for what Agents O'Hara and Andrews had been doing. Race himself had been told to make sure Dr. Quest had no distractions. And he had no doubt that those two agents had seen Jonny as only a distraction. 'Good lord', Race thought, 'if this is what has been happening, no wonder Dr. Quest is justifiably angry.'  
  
"Here, I'll take him," Race said calmly, dropping his bags unceremoniously on the floor of the front hall and reaching for the child. Both Dr. Quest and Corvin looked at him in surprise as Jonny's wailing increased another decibel. Corvin winced.  
  
Race's fury at O'Hara and Andrews increased another notch as he gently began to disengage the little boy from his father. This was definitely more than a normal grief reaction. Race had read the file on the assassination of Rachel Quest. To a six-year-old, it would definitely seem that she had just left and not come back. Separating this kid from his father for even a short amount of time would be traumatic. And given what he thought Andrews and O'Hara had done, keeping 'distractions' from the scientist, the problem was just compounded. This kid needed TLC, not discipline.  
  
The little boy fought hard to keep from leaving his father. Race could tell it was more desperation than anger, as he ignored the flying fists and kicking feet. Dr. Quest helped, but Race could see his heart wasn't in it. "It's just for a few minutes, son," Benton said firmly, but Race could see the anxiety in his face and eyes.  
  
"Go on," Race calmly urged the scientist as he hid a wince as another kick connected with his abdomen. "Leave him to me. We'll be fine." This kid was like trying to hold onto a slippery eel.  
  
The scientist nodded slowly, then motioned for Corvin to follow him, obviously uncomfortable leaving his hysterical son with a total stranger.  
  
Jonny didn't calm down, but his strength was waning. Race could hold onto him now. This poor kid was absolutely exhausted. Race suddenly wondered how much sleep the little boy was getting. Or his father for that matter. The poor kid had some serious issues.  
  
Now, easily holding onto the wearily struggling child, Race headed down the hall, looking for someplace to wait with the kid that wasn't the front hall. As he felt yet another fist connect tiredly with his back, he thought with a grin, the kid has heart. He's exhausted and terrified, and still he's fighting.  
  
After poking his head into a couple of rooms, one a den, the other obviously an office, Race found Jonny's room. The cheerful room was a cool blue with white trim, and was a typical young child's room. Toys and books were strewn everywhere, and a large, comfortable arm chair complete with footstool was set in the corner under the window. Race deposited the still howling child in the chair's depths, and turned to look about the scattered toys for something to distract the boy. Almost hidden under the bed, only a corner showing, Race spotted a worn book. He pulled it out and saw it was a well used copy of 'The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe". Opening it, he saw the inscription, 'to Jonny from Mommy and Daddy - Happy, happy birthday'. This book had been well loved.  
  
He turned back to the weakly crying child, only to find him sliding off the chair and starting to head for the door.  
  
"Hey, hey! Whoa there, kiddo!" Race grabbed the boy as he tried to scoot by. "Where're you going?"  
  
Jonny tried to fight off Race's hands, but was too tired to pose any real problem to the agent. "I want Daddy!" Jonny's cries rose in desperation as he struggled.  
  
Where did this kid get his reserves of stamina, Race thought. He should have practically been comatose by this time. Race knelt down, putting the book on the floor, and held the shaking boy by the shoulders, and looked him in the eye.  
  
"Now, what are you worried about?" Race asked calmly. As if I didn't know, he thought to himself.  
  
"D..d..ad..d..y," Jonny stuttered, tears streaming down his face.  
  
"What about him?" Race asked matter-of-factly.  
  
"He's gone. He's not going to come back." This sparked a fresh wave of body-wracking sobs.  
  
'Now, why would you think that?" Race asked logically.  
  
The little boy looked at him in surprise. "Be-because Mommy went away and never came ba-back."  
  
"But you're Dad came back, didn't he?"  
  
Jonny's brow furrowed for a moment as he slowly nodded, his small body still shaking with sobs.  
  
Race continued. "Then don't you think he'll probably come back to you, since he's still in the house?"  
  
Race could see this made sense to the child, but that he wasn't completely convinced. He mentally dammed the other to agents yet again. "Now, you won't be able to see him until he's done talking to Mr. Corvin, so why don't you pick someplace for us to wait until he's done?" Race suggested. He shifted his hold away from the boy's shoulders to holding firmly onto his hand, and straightened up. "Now, where shall we wait?"  
  
Race expected to be led to the chair in the corner of the room, but instead, the little boy, still crying quietly, tugged him towards the door to the hall. Race quickly grabbed the worn book off the floor, and against his better judgment, allowed himself to be led out the door and down the hall. Race hoped they weren't heading for the lab. He really didn't like the possibility of separating the child from his father yet again.  
  
But to his surprise, the room they entered was obviously Dr. Quest's bedroom. Race felt a stab of unease. This was a private room, and even if Jonny was welcome here, Race doubted he was. But before he could suggest another possibility, Jonny abruptly pulled away from him and flung himself on the big bed with a fresh flurry of sobs. The little boy, clearly at the end of his endurance, buried his face in the quilt and wrapped his arms protectively around his head.  
  
Race just let him be, and pulled a wing chair up within reach of the bed, sat down, opened the book and began to read. He could see the child begin to relax as the familiar words washed over him. Keeping his tone soft while he read, Race kept an eye on the boy. He could see as the crying and shaking slowed, finally halting completely as Jonny dropped into an exhausted sleep. Without changing his tone or missing a word, Race reached over and carefully covered the little boy with the comforter on the foot of the bed.  
  
Settling back into his chair, he continued to read, knowing full well from his experience with his own daughter (who was now with his ex-wife), that if he stopped, Jonny was likely to wake, and the cycle would begin all over again.  
  
It really wasn't that long, only about twenty-five minutes or so before Dr. Quest reappeared. Race could see the worried expression change to one of amazement as he entered the room and took in the scene. "How on earth did you ever get him down for a nap?" he said after a brief moment of surprised silence.  
  
Race smiled calmly and shut the book. "I told him that he couldn't see you until you were finished talking to Mr. Corvin, but that we could wait where ever he wanted to and he chose your room. He just crawled up on your bed and cried. I found this book in his room---it looked like a favorite. So I just started to read, and he gradually calmed down and finally fell asleep. He was a pretty tired boy. I hope I didn't overstep any boundaries."  
  
"No, you didn't overstep anything." Race noted with amusement Dr. Quest's amazement as he shook his head and continued, "Jonny hasn't slept more than a couple of hours at a time since his mother died . . . And that book was her favorite."  
  
Dr. Quest turned to look thoughtfully at Race. Race thought it was probably the first time that the scientist has really looked at him. He could practically see the man's mind working, as he began to reevaluate the new agent in his household.  
  
"Would you care to join me in the kitchen for a cup of coffee?" Dr. Quest asked tentatively.  
  
Geneva, thought Race with amusement. And the peace accord begins. "Sounds great." He got up quietly. "What about Jonny?"  
  
Dr. Quest looked at his peacefully sleeping son in amazement once again, and said, "Just leave him. He desperately needs the sleep," he finished, confirming Race's earlier supposition.  
  
They sat down at the kitchen table, and quietly drank their coffee. Race broached the subject of a plan he'd been thinking about while waiting for Dr. Quest to reappear. He wanted to give Jonny his lessons in a quiet corner of the lab while Dr. Quest worked, for awhile. His thought was that if Jonny could see his father, he might relax a bit. Dr. Quest looked very surprised, then thoughtful, and gave his permission. Race mentally dammed O'Hara and Andrews to the nether reaches one more time, as he watched the scientist's reaction. But, at the same time, Race could sense the man beginning to relax.  
  
Dr. Quest asked him about his background. He could see the scientist's surprise once again as he explained about his university degrees. By the time Jonny sleepily joined them several hours later, the thaw was near completion, and they were comfortably talking. Trust was still far away, but the overtures had been made.  
  
Jonny climbed up onto his father's lap, yawning.  
  
"Have a good sleep?" Dr. Quest asked his son with a slight smile, as he put his arms around him and gave the little boy a hug. Race was amazed at the change in the man when he interacted with his son. He was a truly different person.  
  
"Uh-huh," Jonny responded, clearly not completely awake.  
  
Dr. Quest began, "Agent Bannon,"  
  
"Race," Race corrected immediately.  
  
Dr. Quest laughed. Race almost jumped in surprise at the sound.  
  
"Race," Dr. Quest amended, "suggested that he give you your lessons in a corner of my lab. It's fine with me. Is that all right with you?"  
  
Jonny's eyes got big as he looked at his father. "Uh-huh!" he said again, this time in surprised agreement.  
  
"Thank Agent Ban . . . Race," Dr. Quest instructed his son.  
  
The little boy looked over at agent. "Thank you," he said softly, with a sweet, tentative smile.  
  
Race got the feeling that if this kid really grinned, he could light up the day. This assignment might not be so bad after all, he thought. 


End file.
